The Adventure of Harry Holmes
by EmeryLark
Summary: When a four year old Harry Potter was removed from his relatives care due to abuse. He is taken into the care of a very eccentric pair of brothers, who value deductive reasoning and cleverness far more then any emotion. What will become of the Boy Who Lived when he discovers who he truly is? And what will become of the Wizarding World when H. J. Holmes attends Hogwarts?
1. The Curious Neighbor

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters created by J. K. Rowling or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, nor do I own rights to any adaptation of the works of the latter. In this case I am referring to "Sherlock" the brilliant BBC series. This story is purely for enjoyment, I promise you I am not making any money off this.

Warning: Rating this a T for now, rating may go up as the story progresses. This story does contain violence toward children, but it' a Harry Potter story, so you kind of expect that going in.

Please read and enjoy, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome, thank you.

-/\\-

It was a very hot August afternoon on Privet Drive. All the residents were in doors talking advantage of air conditioning and cool drinks, all but one. Harry Potter, a very small four year old boy was outside in the garden. His aunt had ordered him to weed the back garden. She had noticed the other day while spying on Number 2's garden that she had had a patch of wilting marigolds and her geraniums were ghastly.

So naturally Petunia needed to make sure her garden was perfect and the envy of all. But she soon discovered it was terribly uncomfortable trying to garden during a record heat wave was, thus she sent out her four year old nephew with nothing but a hand spade and trowel to weed, water and tidy the entire back garden, he was not allowed to rest or come back inside until the job was finished to his aunts satisfaction, all the while she was in the living room telling her husband all the gossip she had gotten about the new family on the street, the Reynolds, from America, who were moving in that very day.

Harry had been at his task for over four hours and was utterly exhausted and starting to get rather sun burned when his uncle came outside. Harry cringed, he knew that Vernon Dursley had been drinking, and he knew far too well what happened when her drank.

"What are you doing there, you Freak!"

-/\\-

That afternoon the Reynolds moved into number 7 Privet Drive. It was an incredibly boring house, that looked just like every other incredibly boring house on the astoundingly boring street. Jason Reynolds, Mr. Reynolds eleven years old son, was staying out of his parents way and playing with his new video recorder his grandmother gave him before they moved to England.

This camera was the method with which he first saw the little black haired boy working in a back garden. It struck Jason that he was a very young boy to be weeding, and on such a hot day. He decided to film him for a bit, little kids often did funny things. Maybe he wasn't gardening, but playing with something. Jason was about to call out to the boy when a very fat man waddled out of the house.

"What are you doing there, you Freak!" the fat man shouted.

"Weeding the garden, Uncle Vernon." he said quietly.

"Why aren't you done yet!" he strode up who had stood up to look at him, and backhanded the boy, knocking him back several feet and causing him to fall hard onto the flowerbed, crushing the petunias and zinnias. "Now look what you've done!" He shouted and raised his fist and delivered another blow.

"Hey, you can't do that." Jason shouted. The Fat Man rounded on him.

"Shut it , you little prat!" the Fat Man shouted and lurched toward Jason, reaching out to grab him. "Give me that camera!" He bellowed. Jason turned on his heels and ran as fast as he could back home. He had to tell his Dad what he saw.


	2. The Official Response

Jason Reynolds ran straight home with the last that he saw or heard of the Fat Man, he was shouting about a cupboard.

"Mom! Dad!" he shouted, dodging the movers carrying the sofa and several boxes. He found his father in the living room setting up the TV.

"Hey Jase, you can start unpacking your room, we've got your bed and dresser in there now." Mr. Dave Reynolds said.

"Dad, I just saw this fat guy punch out a kid!"

"What?" his father asked incredulously. "Jason Reynolds, that is not funny." he said unwilling to believe such a thing. This was such a quiet street. In response his son thrust the camcorder at him.

"I'm not kidding! The Fat guy across the street just punched this little kid."

Dave took the camera from his son and connected it to the television, rewound the tape and hit the playback. Two minutes later Dave turned toward the kitchen and called to his wife, "Charlotte, Call the police."

-/\\-

Harry was again locked in his cupboard under the stairs, his head and back hurt and he was very dizzy. But Uncle Vernon's threat echoed in his head. _"You get in there and don't you even think of coming out. You make one sound and you won't have any meals for a week."_

He had been in there a very long time. They hadn't even let him out to do his inside chores. But at least it was cooler in here. He placed the injured side of his face against the wood of the door. It felt cool and nice against his skin. Harry began to drift off to sleep and wasn't even rouse when the pounding began.

Three load bangs on the front door startled the Dursleys who were sitting in the living room having tea and biscuits. Petunia got up to answer it and while she was away Dudley stole her biscuit. Petunia opened the door and was quickly pushed aside by a man in a dark grey suit who quickly followed by a young woman in a cream overcoat and two uniformed offices. She was horrified to the see the police cars parked in front of her house, what would the neighbors think.

"Is this the home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley?" the suited man asked, all the while knowing it was.

"Yes, it is." Vernon Dursley stated, getting up to stare at the man. "And who do you think you are to come barging in here?"

"I am Inspector Dawson, this is Case Worker McKay, from Child Protection and officers Reese and Saunders. Now where is the boy?" Inspector Dawson demanded.

Vernon pointed to Dudley, who stared at them stupidly. "Our son is right there and he is just fine."

"Not that boy. The little black haired boy you decided to use as a punching bag today." Dawson said. Vernon blustered and tried to look shocked and offended. "Don't bother Dursley, I've seen the video. Now where is he?"

Vernon and Petunia Dursley had both refused to state where the child was, and the officers and Ms. McKay began to search the house. There were four bedrooms upstairs, the master bedroom, and obvious guestroom, a room that must be storage for broken toys and a child's room with every possible luxury. But nothing to indicate a second child. But as she came down the stairs and looked back into the living room, Ms. McKay could not help but notice how Mr. or Mrs. Dursley would look over toward the stairs every few minutes. She followed their eye and found a cupboard door, and reached her hand toward it.

"You stay out of there!" Vernon Dursley shouted.

"What's in there?" she asked.

"None of your concern." he said stubbornly.

"Then it won't change matters if I open it." she said and did just that.

Once the door was unlatched it flew open and a small boy fell to the floor.

Jennifer McKay had not expected the child to just fall out of the cupboard. She hurried to his side and rolled him over. The left side of the boy's face swollen and bruising, and his breathing was very wheezy.

"Wake up, little one." she said gently, "Open your eyes." the boy gave no sign of waking, she looked toward the Inspector, he was already calling for an ambulance and glaring at Vernon Dursley whose face had been drained of all color.


	3. Official Intervention

Every resident of Privet Drive was either standing on their front lawn or blatantly staring out their window at the scene taking place at Number 4. Vernon Dursley had been taken from the house in handcuffs and roughly escorted to the police car, by two police officers. The medics had a small black haired boy on a stretcher, and loaded him onto the ambulance. Once the boy was secure, the ambulance took off to the nearest hospital.

The whispers were rampant, and Mrs. Dursley was terrified to even look out her door. While the police did not have enough evidence to arrest Mrs. Dursley, Ms. McKay had called into her superior regarding the second boy, Dudley, as a couple who caused harm to one child would most likely cause harm to another. Yet they did not authorize the removal of the Dursley boy as he had not been physically abused. Ms. McKay took one look at the boy and determined that the real harm done to him was overindulgence.

After Vernon Dursley was taken the Inspector, Ms. McKay, and the other Social worker who had arrived, Mr. Jennings, began gathering additional evidence. They were horrified to discover that the little cupboard the boy had been in seemed to actually be his "bedroom". But they found nothing but a thin quilt folded to form a mattress, an equally thin blanket and about three changes of cloths which were obviously discards from the larger boy. They turned back at the sound of the weeping Mrs. Dursley, as she stood hugging herself and repeating "Oh, what will the neighbors say." more to herself then any of them. The three were utterly disgusted.

Down the street, one neighbor in particular was displeased to be pulled away from her spying and gossiping on the fall of the most self important and pompous family to ever reside on their street, but she had promise Mrs. Figg that she would feed her cats while she was out of town visiting friends.

Twelve miles away, in a hospital emergency room, nurses and doctors were trying to see to it that The Boy Who Lived would live.

-/\\-

Ms. McKay had proceeded straight back to the office immediately after she had left Privet Drive. She had called the hospital as soon as she reached her office, and they reported that the boy was currently in stable condition, but Dr. Greene wanted to go over the boys case with her, and they set up an appointment for the next day. She had, after an arduous interview with Petunia Dursley, discovered the boys name was Harry James Potter and was actually the woman's nephew. However after a few calls had determined that no official custody agreement or adoption was in place. There was no legal claim the Dursleys had on the boy, and Mrs. Dursley herself stated that she had no idea if her sister or her husband had a will listing them as guardians, apparently he was just left on their doorstep in the middle of the night.

Ms. McKay worked well into the night filing all the necessary forms and inquiries along with a copy of the video tape that the Reynolds family were more than willing to provide. In the morning her section head would be reviewing the case with the prosecutor.

~~~ /\\\~~~

Ms. McKay's meeting with the doctor had been scheduled for the following morning when Dr. Greene was off duty and was able to take the time to walk Ms. McKay through what they had discovered. The pair was sitting in his office where he was showing her the numerous x-rays, and discussing the boy's condition. Ms. McKay was actually surprised when she had learned the boy was really four years of age.

"Yes, his small stature could be the result of genetics but most likely due to mal nutrition. He was extremely dehydrated when he arrived, and has numerous bruises all over his body. Those to his face and shoulders appear to have been caused in the last twenty four hours and are our more pressing concern, however the rest are from three to ten days old." Dr. Greene handed her the chart and a copy of the hospital file which included pictures. "The x-rays have also revealed several previously healed fractures which I can date back at least a year." Dr. Greene stated disgusted. "This will all be in my report and should be ready by the end of the week."

"Excellent." Ms. McKay stated then inquired sadly, "Has there been any improvement?"

"He woke at about four this morning. The swelling in his head had lessened significantly overnight, we're still not sure how, its almost like magic." the doctor said with a weak attempt to smile, "He'll be alright…in time."

"I sincerely hope so, Doctor."

In London, as per procedure, copies of all documents requiring approval from some portion of the Government were provided for review for a person who was considered the most indispensable man in England.


	4. The Decision Made

Miranda Essex walked briskly into the exclusive Diogenes Club to seek out her employer. She had been performing her daily task of reviewing all documents filed through the ministry that were submitted for authoritative action which should be brought to Mr. Holmes attention. When Miranda had read the name on the file she recognized it immediately. Even though she was not what would be considered an active member of the Wizarding World and hadn't been since the war, she knew the name of their savior, and she still kept an ear to the ground and of course had a Daily Prophet subscription.

It was one of the reasons Mr. Holmes had hired her three years ago, and she had been grateful for the position ever since. Not just because all of Mycroft Holmes past assistants had a habit of securing very high paying and secure positions once they left his employ, but also because as a Muggleborn, any potential employment in the Wizarding World was hard to come by, pureblood prejudice was rampant, especially in the Ministry. Muggleborns were only hired for the lowest positions and it was so incredibly frustrating to have to sit by and watch "pureblood" witches and wizards straight out of Hogwarts getting higher and better positions with nothing more to recommend them than a family name.

/\

When she had been "overlooked" for the fourth time for a higher position in her department, and it had instead gone to the 18 year old son of an old school friend of the Department Head, she knew that she would never get anywhere in the Ministry. That was why she had agreed to accept the position from the woman who was now her predecessor.

Miranda had noticed the lovely woman a few times in the Ministry. She looked to be about thirty, and always dressed very well, and soon enough she was noticing her in other locations. On the street outside the Ministry entrance, on the bus home, at the corner outside her apartment building. Until one day Miranda chose not to simply ignore her. Instead she walked right up to her and demanded to know why she was following her.

"I was starting to wonder if you were actually going to do it." the woman said smiling, catching Miranda completely off guard.

"What?"

"Its been four days, I was beginning to wonder. No matter, you have, so let us discuss." she smiled and gestured for Miranda to walk with her down the street.

"Who are you?"

"Not a very original question, but direct. I am Lydia Crain, and I have an opportunity for you." She said smiling. "A most interesting and important position in the government."

"Then why not approach me at the office?" Miranda asked not sure if she should believe the woman.

"As part of the … gentlemen's agreement, we call it, I can not approach any candidate for this position nor can my employer. They have to come to us." Lydia explained. "Coffee?" she walked into the corner café without looking to see if Miranda was following.

"Why?" she asked as they sat down, and gave their order to the prompt waitress.

"The Ministry does not want to allow those like us to find suitable positions of power, thus the pureblood dominance. As they technically are their own branch of government, they also like to believe that they are the only branch of government. So many years ago an agreement was struck, that the British Government could not actively recruit from the Ministry or the School." Lydia explained and thanked the girl as she returned with their coffees.

"That makes no sense, you would think they would want more wi- _of us_, it those positions."

"You've seen it yourself," Lydia explained, "those of _purity_ can not function outside of their own world, they can't master technology, most are afraid of it."

"So you're a…" Miranda cut herself off, looking around the café.

"My father was a Royal Marine, and my mother was a hair dresser."

"So you kept following me hoping I would confront you, and thereby you could say I approached you." Miranda concluded.

"Old tricks are the best tricks." she smiled. "Now the question is, are you interested enough to accept."

"You would offer me a position without knowing anything about me, or what I'm capable of?" Miranda asked evenly.

"You think I don't already know everything there is to know about you?" Lydia smiled.

"So what exactly is this position?"

"You will be taking over for me as the assistant for the most powerful man in the country."

"You said this was a position in the British Government?" Miranda reminded.

"He is the British Government." Lydia stated with a steady smile.

/\

Miranda found Mycroft Holmes in his favorite leather arm chair idly reading one of the eleven papers which were delivered to him daily. She quietly walked up and handed him the file regarding the case of Harry James Potter.

Mycroft knew the name instantly, as he was always current on the news of both worlds. He read over the report quickly but thoroughly, before standing and proceeding out the door. Once in the car he had reread the report.

"What is the current news from their end?" he asked quietly.

"There hasn't been a word, from what I can gather they don't know, yet."

"How interesting." Mycroft said, before sitting in silence for several minutes in deep thought. "Alert the staff to open our country house, and prepare for the care of a young boy, and see to it all the necessary _adjustment_ are made to the house. Additional staff will be needed to address the boys needs directly, see to it that the my usual standards are kept, and that they are capable of handling the boys … conditions."

"Sir, you wish to adopt the boy?"

"What I wish has nothing to do with the matter. The threat we faced during their war was a very real danger in our world, people died, destruction was rampant, and their efforts to cover it up were feeble at best." Mycroft stated plainly, "That threat is not gone, and as their world places so much faith and dependence on a child they then threw away, it is necessary for our world to look after our own interests."

"Of course, Sir." Miranda said as she didn't know what else to say, her employer could be so cold sometimes.


	5. The First Steps on a New Path

Harry woke slowly, with the throbbing pain in his head having eased and feeling that the room was a bit chilly. He immediately realized he was not in his cupboard. His cupboard was always warm and the air was kind of stale, and smelled of cobwebs. This air smelled of cleaner. Beneath him was a cushion, Harry thought to himself, he must be on a bed, not that he'd ever slept on one before.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, or rather, he opened his right eye, his left was slightly swollen shut, and tried to sit up.

"So you have decided to wake up." Harry turned toward the voice and saw pretty woman smiling at him and carrying a shopping bag.

"Sorry." Harry said, looking around, "Umm… where am I? Who are you?"

"You're in hospital." She said gently, "And you can call me Miranda." she said walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm here to make sure you're taken care of."

This confused Harry, how many times had his aunt and uncle told him no one cared about him and how grateful he should be that they troubled themselves to feed and cloth him.

"But what about my Aunt and Uncle." Harry asked, bit worried to hear the answer.

"No need to worry Harry, you won't be seeing them again." Miranda said, "Now that you're awake we only have a few formalities and we can get you to your new home."

"New home?" Harry asked, having the hardest time believing it to be true.

"Yes, Harry, you're going to be living in the country."

"With you?"

"Well," Miranda began, not sure how much she could promise the young wizard, "I'll come and see you as often as I can. But for the most part you're going to be living with some very clever people who are going to take care of you."

"Why do they want to take care of me? My Uncle said no one wanted me."

"Harry, you are very special, your Uncle couldn't understand that. He was far too stupid to know what was really going on in the world." She said bluntly before smiling again at Harry. "He's not like us Harry. Now I know this is all confusing, but everything will be explained in time, alright." Harry reluctantly nodded.

"Good, now, I'm going to go any speak to some of the staff, but while I'm doing that I want you to put these on." She said picking up the bag and handing it to him. "And I'll be right back."

Miranda dealt with the hospital staff as quickly and efficiently as she had dealt with the Social workers earlier that day, after a few memory charms and bit of non magical computer hacking, all of Harry's placement and adoption records had been created and sealed. The nurses and hospital administrators were no different. All they even wanted to know was that Harry would be going to a safe home.

A half hour later Miranda reentered Harry's room to see him pull the jumper on over his head leaving his hair sticking up in all directions.

"Are you ready?" Miranda asked, holding out a stick in her hand, and lightly tapped him on the head with it.

"What's that for?"

"That is to keep people from paying too much attention to us, let's go." she said and held out her hand. Harry took it sheepishly, he'd never held anyone's hand before.

After a short walk through the hospital in which no one paid any notice to them, they were out of the hospital and into the black town car.

A three hour drive later and Harry was staring at the biggest house he had ever seen. When the car pulled up to the front of the house, half a dozen people walked out and stood in front of the door, waiting for Harry to step out of the car, while the driver got out to open the door.

"Welcome home, Master Harry." the group said in chorus, as Harry stood before them amazed.

~~~/\~~~

Hogwarts Castle, Scotland

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office and getting ready for the start of the school year, when the shelves of silvery instruments which monitored the wards around number 4 Privet Drive suddenly ceased to function. He knew that those wards would hold unless Harry was no longer living at number 4, or he had perished.

Albus immediately went to the fireplace and called Mrs. Figg, requesting that she check in on Harry and report back. She reminded him that she had just returned home that day, but she would walk over and find out what she could.

Afterward the Headmaster of Hogwarts went over to the shelf and examined the instruments. He scrutinized each of them carefully but he wasn't able to find anything wrong with them.

It was less then a quarter hour when Mrs. Figg's frantic voice sounded through the fireplace.

"Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledore! Where are you? He's gone!" Albus rushed over to fireplace.

"Arabella, what are you saying? Where is Harry?"

"He's gone. Some Muggles took him away. He was badly injured, and the police arrested Dursley." she explained quickly, "Albus, they were beating the boy."

Dumbledore dismissed the comment, he was sure it wasn't serious, they wouldn't have damaged the boy permanently.

"I will call the Aurors at once." he announced and effectively ended the conversation. Mrs. Figg's face disappeared from the fire and Dumbledore summoned an Auror. He needed to find that boy.

~~~~/\~~~~

Kingsley was quite surprised after he had arrived on Privet drive in his Muggle suit. He had knocked on the door of Number 4, and before he could even get Harry's full name out of his mouth, Petunia Dursley ordered him off her property and slammed the door in his face. He didn't know what to think, Albus had assured them all that Harry was in a secret and safe place, with blood wards and a loving family, but after consulting with Mrs. Figg and what the neighbors were more then happy to inform him of, this was a far cry from the ideal home Albus had described.

Kingsley's next step was to track the woman who had removed Harry from the house, a Ms. McKay.

~~~~/\~~~~

Holmes Country House

Harry gaped open mouthed at the people smiling at him and the mansion behind them. Could this be real? Did these people really want _him _to live in this place?

"Come along Harry," Miranda said, getting out of the car and leading him up to the house with a steady hand on his shoulder. They walked straight up to the two most serious looking people.

"Now Harry, this is Mr. Peirce and Mrs. Bunting." she explained, "Mr. Peirce is the butler, and Mrs. Bunting is the housekeeper, they are in charge of taking care of everything in the house."

"Nice to meet you." Harry said timidly and held out his hand to shake, he had seen the gesture many times but had never done it before. Mr. Peirce and Mrs. Bunting each took his hand and carefully shook it. They had all seemed surprised by the gesture, but only for a moment.

"A pleasure to meet you, Master Harry." Peirce said with a thin smile. Mr. Peirce was a middle aged man and had icy blue eyes. His face was serious even as he smiled and made Harry feel like he would not say anything unless it was important.

"So very nice to meet you, Sir." Mrs. Bunting said, taking Harry's small hand into her two warm and weathers hands, and smiling down at him. Mrs. Bunting had a lovely smile that made the wrinkles around her eyes more visible, and her cheeks were flushed.

Next he was introduced to the cook whose name was actually Cook, Eliza Cook, and Polly, who was the youngest and said she was the maid, who both waved and smiled at him. The last two people Miranda said were who he would be spending the most of his time with, Mr. Harker, who would be Harry's tutor, and Ms. Creevey, who would be watching after Harry's health.

After the introductions were made, Miranda led Harry inside and up to what would be his room. It was not the Master suite, that was kept for Mr. Holmes, but it was still a spacious bed room. Harry was amazed, this room was huge, with an attached bathroom, and a massive four poster bed.

"Welcome home Harry." A voice came from a shadowed corner of the room by the door. Harry spun around, he hadn't seen anyone in the room. There stood the tall man in a dark grey suit with a red tie. He was pale and had a knowing smirk.

"Sorry, but who are you?" Harry asked, taking an unconscious step closer to Miranda.

"I'm your brother now," he said, "but why don't you just call me Mycroft."


	6. Ministry Without a Direction

Chapter 6

Kingsley Shacklebolt walked out of the third office building, with the same answer. All he could get from any official person was that Harry had been taken into the keeping of "A Distinguished Gentleman". He could find no name or address, and soon discovered why. Based upon the power and skill used in modifying so many memories and leaving almost no trace, he was dealing with a very powerful wizard.

Kingsley had spent over an hour trying to undo the spells on Miss McKay or at least find out who cast them, but all for not. He had no idea where little Harry Potter was. He would need help.

Kingsley found a quiet alley way and apparated several miles to one of the more private entrance for the Ministry, and proceeded to the DMLE offices. Known wizards mentioned in any muggle official document had a way of being brought to the attention of the DMLE. And any mention of Harry Potter was sure to be brought to the fore.

Kingsley arrived at the office just as a lovely brunette witch was leaving, carrying an armful of papers.

"Allow me," he said smiling as he held the door for her.

"Thanks ever so much." she said smiling at him and headed to the elevator. He headed for Amelia Bones office.

~~~/\~~~

"HE'S WHAT?!" the shout could easily be heard through the department head's door into the outer office and quite possibly the whole building.

Behind the heavy oak door Kingsley Shacklebolt tried to explain again. He began with what he was able to find about the relatives and how and why Harry had been removed. Then there was the numerous Muggles he had spoken to who were involved; the social worker, her supervisor, the police inspector, and his sergeants, and the doctors and nurses all of whom had had their memories modified. And then there were all the forms and other such paper work which had suddenly disappeared or had no record of the boys current location.

"There is nothing. I don't even have a name to go on." Kingsley confessed, "That's why I came here. I wanted to see if your people had come across any records."

Amelia stood up from her desk, fuming and unsure of who she was the most angry with, Albus Dumbledore for placing that poor boy with such horrible people, or herself for trusting the Headmaster of Hogwarts when he told her the boy was safe. Many wizarding children had been orphaned during the war and they were all checked up on once a year to be sure they were healthy and safe. The ministry had a department for that very purpose.

"And why hasn't Dumbledore informed the Aurors of the situation? Why are you the only one who is searching?" She demanded, her anger fairing at the situation, and when Kingsley had no answer she stomped to the fireplace.

"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" a few moments later the headmasters face appeared in the fireplace.

"Amelia, what can I do for you?"

"You can explain how you placed a defenseless child into an abusive home and then lost him!"

Dumbledore was taken aback by the accusation, how could she possibly have known.

"Amelia, please calm yourself, you-"

"Calm myself! The Boy Who Lived was taken from his home by Muggles because he was being beaten! A home _you_ placed him in! A home _you_ assured us all was safe! And now he's gone without a trace!"

"I have one of the best Aurors searching-" He was cut off again.

"Shacklebolt is here with me. He came for our help." Amelia explained and Kingsley stepped forward and explained to the headmaster about the numerous modified memories and the disappearance or alteration of all the paperwork regarding the boy.

"This is most distressing." the Headmaster said.

"Most distressing?" Amelia asked frustrated, "I am opening a full inquiry and search for the boy."

"I believe that is unwise Amelia, you will only draw attention from the Dark Wizards who seek to hurt him."

"And who do you think has him now!" She countered. "No Dumbledore, I let you have your way when you wanted to hide the boy and not inform the ministry of his location, for 'his own protection', but you failed to protect him. Now we will do this the official way." Amelia stood up and turned her back on the fireplace and the headmaster whom she had previously had such great respect.

"Kingsley, you should not have gotten her involved." Dumbledore said, "It is best if we keep this as quiet as possible." Kingsley was about to point out that he they needed help when the Headmaster removed himself from the fireplace.

~~~~~~/\~~~~~

In Hogwarts Castle, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat staring at his desk. How could all of his plans had gotten so out of hand. And why had Shacklebolt gone to Amelia instead of one of the Order members? He needed to get a handle on this situation, Amelia and the Auror Office weren't able to understand what was truly at stake. They did not understand that he was doing this all for the Greater Good. And now there would be an official inquiry.

Dumbledore rose from his throne like chair and walked back to the fireplace. He would floo to the Ministry and speak with Fudge directly. He needed to find Harry, but there was certainly no need to make this public knowledge, after all, he was still Harry's Magical Guardian.

~~~~/\~~~~~

Amelia walked out into the outer office and told one of her assistance to summon Rufus Scrimgeour, she needed to speak to him immediately. She then went to the incoming documents desk, and demanded to know if the attendant had come across any documents regarding a wizard being removed from muggle care. The witch was confused a moment.

"But Madam Bones, I just gave them to you not one hour ago." she insisted.

"What? I have been in my office for the last hour. Who did you give those papers to?"

~~~~~~/\~~~~~~

Miranda walked out of the DMLE offices with all the documents that the ministry had received regarding Harry, after a very quick and subtle memory modifying spell. A polite man with a bright smile even held the door open for her. Now she had made sure there was no way to trace Harry through the muggle or wizarding world. There was only one final step to see to it Harry was completely safe and independent of the fools who left him with those … _people. _Unfortunately she couldn't take that step yet, not without Harry. He had to understand the implications of what she needed him to do, and what a goblin was.

~~~~~/\~~~~~~~~

Minister of Magic's Office, the Ministry, London

Cornelius Fudge ran his hands through his thinning hair, and stared at the bearded wizard in front of him. Dumbledore had just finished explaining that Harry Potter was missing. The Minister had opened his mouth several times to make a comment but would always close it again, not knowing what to say or how to say it.

How could this be happening in his administration? Fudge thought, at least the press hasn't caught wind of this yet.

"But surely you had investigated these people before you left him there?" Fudge asked, looking for anything that could make the situation better, but when he looked in the old professors face he already knew his hopes were in vein.

"They are the only family he has and that is the safest place for him." Dumbledore explained.

"But you just said the Muggles took him away because he was being abused."

"I'm sure that that was a misunderstanding." Dumbledore said, "One that can be quickly corrected once we bring the boy back."

"But you don't know where he is! The Muggles took him and he's completely disappeared Dumbledore!"

"I will find him. Do not worry yourself Cornelius, I only wanted to warn you as Madam Bones has heard of the issue and seems intent on blowing this all out of proportion. She even stated she would perform a full inquiry." Dumbledore explained.

"That's just what I need right now, a formal inquiry." Fudge sighed heavily as he brushed imaginary dust off the sleeve of his tweed robes.

"Then I shall be off." Dumbledore said, turning to leave, "and do not worry yourself, we will find the boy."

He then turned and walked pout of Fudge's office, and for a moment Fudge though he saw a bug on the professors clothes. It could have been a beetle or it could have just been the paisley pattern.

~~~~~/\~~~~~~

All the while, over one hundred miles away in a quiet country estate, Harry James Potter slept on a soft featherbed, completely ignorant of the great upheaval that was about to take place and was all to do with him.


	7. What the Beetle Said

Harry Potter: Abused, Neglected, &amp; Missing

By Rita Skeeter

We all remember that Halloween night, less then three years ago, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had entered the Potter home in Godric's Hallow, and murdered Lily and James Potter. Only to then be defeated by their son, Harry James Potter, better known as The Boy Who Lived.

But what ever became of the child after that fateful night. We were _told_ the child was placed in a loving and nurturing family. We were _told_ that he was in a safe and protected location. We were _told_ all was well. We were told lies.

It has been discovered by this intrepid reporter that Harry Potter, age 4, has been living in the custody of Muggles since the night of his parents murder. He was placed in the home of Petunia Dursley nee Evans, the Muggle sister of Lily Potter nee Evans. And since that night the child has been subjected to horrendous abuse.

It has been discovered that Harry Potter suffered horrible injuries at the hands of Vernon Dursley, husband of Petunia Dursley nee Evens, as well as being starved. The abuse was such that the Police, a group of Muggle Aurors, had arrested Vernon Dursley and took young Harry Potter from the Dursley home.

Yet this is not as happy a turn in the tale as we would wish, for after the Muggles had placed Harry Potter in a "safe" home, it seems that a powerful witch or wizard then modified the memories of all the Muggles involved to the point that when the search began for the boy, the wizards could find nothing.

We have it, from a reliable source, that Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has called for a full inquiry.

The greatest shock is also still to come. Just who was it that placed Harry Potter into such a horrible home? Who had placed the savior of the Wizarding World into the hands of such monsters? Who then turned his back on the boy and left him for dead? He was placed there by none other then Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, placed Harry Potter on the Dursley doorstep, in the dead of night, after his parents had been murdered and simply walked away. But the more shocking discovery was by what authority he placed the orphaned child in that home…None.

Dumbledore had no authority to remove Harry Potter from Godric's Hollow nor to place him with the Dursley's. According to official records, Dumbledore had not become Harry Potter's Magical Guardian until November 3, two days after he had abandoned the child. He had filed the guardianship papers himself, using his position as Chief Warlock to have them processed. What was Dumbledore really after? Did he really care about the boy's welfare? Or was he just after the Potter holdings?

We have not yet received any official comment from Albus Dumbledore or the Minister yet regarding this matter.

~/\~

Diogenes Club, London

Mycroft read over the Skeeter woman's article and apart from the theatrical embellishments was not as displeased as he thought he would be. He knew the their side would find out about the boys removal sooner or later. However the pubic announcement had come sooner then expected, but gave all the reassurance he needed. The article would put their world in a dither for months if not years. And if they were unsettled then they wouldn't be able to interfere with his business, which was of course…everything. Should something come up amongst _their_ kind, Miranda would inform him and suitable action would be taken. With that thought, he turned his significant mental faculties back to the real world issues that required his attention; the future of Britain, the very young soon-to-be wizard, and a recalcitrant younger brother.

~/\~

Gringotts Bank, London

The Goblins, of course, had a subscription to all of the Wizarding periodicals and once their copy of The Daily Prophet arrived, it was immediately taken to the Head Goblin and a fury of activity commenced. Within the hour the article's claims had been substantiated, much to the dismay and horror of the goblins. The account manager for the Potter holdings, Steelclaw, had gone over the Potter holdings in the wake of the news, and discovered that nearly five thousand galleons had been removed from Mr. Harry Potter's trust vault by Albus Dumbledore. The first withdrawal of one thousand galleons was on the third of November, and the withdrawal memo read, "Establishing of Caregiver", monthly withdrawals of one hundred galleons a month was listed as "Child Care Support" for the last three years.

A Goblin Emissary was able to confirm with DMLE that the sole heir to one of the greatest wizarding families and account holders, had been placed in the custody of a despicable family and removed due to violence, and it was also true that Dumbledore had made himself the Magical Guardian of said child three days after his parents death.

As the Potter Will had been sealed and with no other named executor, it was immediately decided that all Potter vaults would hence forth be sealed and all properties placed under the protection of the goblins until such time as the heir came to claim them or there was conclusive proof of the heirs death. The Head Goblin was to be advised immediately should someone attempt to access any of the holdings. The guardianship papers were also considered null and void, as far as Gringotts was concerned Harry James Potter had no legal guardian.

~~~/\~~~

Ministry of Magic:

Minister of Magic's Office

Fudge's office had been barraged by letters and more then a few howlers, all demanding an explanation how he could have let this happen and demanding to know what had become of the boy or what he was doing to find him. His aids had spent all morning trying to keep the press out and deal with as many of the letters as they could but they were drowning in them. It seemed all the wizarding world was furious about what had happened to the boy.

DMLE Offices

Madam Bones was sitting in her office looking over the final report her people had completed which included the medical reports and the "interview" with Petunia Dursley, which when you condensed it down was a tirade of screeching and foul language.

It had also been confirmed that none of the proper procedures had been followed in the collection or placement of Harry Potter, or the assigning of a magical guardian. Now the question was whether or not to pursue formal charges.

~~~/\~~~

Headmasters Office, Hogwarts

Minerva McGonagall bust through the door carrying her copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Albus Dumbledore!" Minerva shouted, but was immediately interrupted by the myriad of owls, letter, and most noticeably howlers that were piled throughout the office and covering almost every surface.

"Can I help you Minerva?" Dumbledore asked as if nothing was amiss, "I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment." He said and appeared to be rifling through the dozens of letters on his desk. McGonagall whose anger was starting to wane, was spurred back to bristling fervor when she saw he had found the item he had been looking for, the dish of lemon drops.

"I told you those were the worst sort of Muggles but you wouldn't listen to me and now this!" McGonagall's shouting could be heard through the hall outside the Headmasters office and down to the attached corridors where several of the other teachers had gathered wishing to give the headmaster a piece of their minds. But all were willing to wait until the Deputy Headmistress had her say.

So no one was there to observe the small gold key that hung from a chain on Fawkes' s perch disappear and return to the keeping of the Head Goblin.

Hogwart's Dungeon

Severus Snape threw the paper into the fire in disgust. He didn't even know how he felt. Lily had died to protect her son and he had been subjected abuse much like that he, himself, had endured at the hands of his father.

He wanted to hate the boy. The boy was the reason Lily was dead, but not the only reason.

~~~~~/\~~~~~

The Daily Prophet offices

Office of Rita Skeeter

Ms. Rita Skeeter was more then please with herself as she sat in her moderate sized office, which she was looking to trade up. The Prophet had flown off the stands and they were into their third printing of the day just to keep up with demand. The paper was receiving hundreds of letters asking for any more information they could provide, and Rita was starting a rough outline for the book she would write on the matter. She even gave a silent thank you thought to the Boy Who Lived, as he was going to make her a very rich woman.


	8. Creating the Palace

The Holmes Country House

Harry sat in his favorite deep leather armchair by the fireplace in the library, his favorite room in the house. He sat with the large tome on his lap and stared at the page, but no longer focusing on it. He was instead focusing on construction.

Mycroft had given him the book regarding the mnemonic device called a memory palace. He had explained that both he and their brother Sherlock had constructed their own so that they would be able to always remember what they wanted.

Harry had started his own palace, though at the moment it was not much more then a cupboard and single room. Like the book had instructed, he had started with the place he had felt the most comfortable and familiar. He had built his cupboard so clearly in his head, when he closed his eyes, he was there again, almost expecting to hear Aunt Petunia rapping on the cupboard door, a door that would not open. Harry could not bring himself to build the house on the other side of the door. Instead he created another door on the opposite side, a door that led to his new life as Hardwyn "Harry" Holmes. It was still strange to thing this life had only begun for him four months ago. Harry carefully opened the door in his memory palace and entered his bedroom and was able to remember in vivid detail his first meeting with his eldest brother and entering his new life, which had begun so strangely.

-}{-

Mycroft had settled himself at the tea table in Harry's new room after introducing himself, and he had explained, as much as Mycroft ever explains anything, Harry's new situation.

"But sir, I don't have a brother." Harry tried to explain.

"You do now Harry, two in fact." he said again with a practiced smile. "Harry, before now you life was in a very perilous position. Do you know what that means?" Harry just shook his head feeling stupid.

"It means you were not in a safe place, and too many accidents were possible, and too much violence has already occurred. Now you will be safe here and we will make sure that you have all the tools you need." Mycroft explained.

"Tools for what?" Harry asked.

"The world can be a very wondrous and amazing place, Harry, but it can also be a very dangerous place. We are going to make sure you are ready for it."

Mycroft had not stayed though as Harry thought he would. He had said this was Harry's new home and that they were now family, but that that did not mean he would be living in the same place, or even the same city.

"I am in service to the crown, Harry," Mycroft had explained just before he had departed, "I must go where I am needed."

And with that, Harry was left with a half a dozen people whose employment was to look after him, and a brother driving away, who did not look back.

~~~/\~~~

The house had soon found its rhythm, and the staff were so very pleased to have a member of the family in residence again. Harry soon discovered that his day, from when he woke up until he went to sleep, was under the care of "His Staff". A term that made no sense to Harry as he was the one taking instruction rather then giving it.

Peirce and Bunting were as different as they could get. Peirce was tall and thin, Bunting short and plump but the two worked together amazingly well.

Mr. Peirce would wake Harry up at precisely half past seven every morning and walk him through his morning routing. As Harry brushed his teeth, Peirce would be picking out his cloths for the day and announcing his schedule. Then they would go to the downstairs, where Mrs. Bunting had overseen the preparation of breakfast and would always explain any new dish Harry hadn't been served before.

Then would come the morning exercises and his daily draft. Ms. Coraline Creevey was Harry's Healer. That was how she had been introduced to him, but she wasn't a doctor.

"I'm not like one of those Hospital Healers, Harry," Ms. Creevey explained, "I'm not going to poke you with needles, or put you in x-ray machines. My way of healing is very different. You will have to take medicine every day for a month, but think of it like a magic potion, because when we're done your bones and muscles will be good as new." She said handing Harry a small vial with a pink liquid in it. Harry drank it obediently and immediately pulled a face. That stuff tasted horrible, bitter and sour. Ms. Creevey quickly handed Harry a jelly bean to eat, though they tasted of the strangest things, to get the flavor out of his mouth. "Sorry Harry, I said you'd be good as new, I didn't say it tastes good."

He would then be ordered to run and play. "About the garden now," Ms. Creevey ordered, "You need plenty of exercise and fresh air, all growing boys do." The two would run around playing hide and seek and tag and chase. Harry had never been allowed to just play before so Coraline taught him the games she would play with her nephews. They were both younger then Harry but were very active and inquisitive boys from what Coraline had said.

Harry spent the latter part of his mornings and his afternoons under the guidance of Mr. Harker, a former Oxford professor, who would tutor him in everything from ancient history to modern sciences. Harker was always pleased by how attentive a student he had. Harry had already know the basics of reading, as books were the only things Dudley hadn't cared if he touched, and just required assistance with larger or unfamiliar words. He loved anything new and to Harry even ancient Rome was new exciting.

Dinner would then be served promptly at six, and then Mr. Peirce would walk Harry through his evening routine and he would be tucked in bed, to rest for the next day.

And so life continued, from day to day, the same routine, to which Harry certainly didn't object. Which might have been due to the fascinating new things he would learn every day or possibly the fact that everyone seemed to actually like him here, something he was slowly getting used to. There of course the occasional break in which Mycroft would come for a visit, but never staying more then a day or two.

However, the greatest shift came with both excitement and anxiety for Harry, for December had arrived and with it came the notice from his brother that they would have their first family dinner and that he would meet his second brother, Sherlock.

-}{-

Harry withdrew from his memory palace then, pleased with progress. He was able to make longer and more comprehensive trips than he could when he first started.

He looked up at the clock on the mantle, a quarter to four. They should be arriving any time now. Harry returned to his room on the second floor and double checked his appearance, searching for any clue that would give away anything about him. Mycroft, when he was around, liked to play deductive games with him, telling him what he had done that day, simply by looking at him. These games caused Harry to pay closer attention to details of others appearance and manner, trying to deduce what they had been doing. But he could never do so with Mycroft.

Harry heard what sounded like a car coming down the drive and rushed to the window. It was a black town car, traveling from London, if he had made out the tag properly. This has to be Sherlock, it certainly wasn't Mycroft's usual car. No, there was Mycroft's at the end of the drive. This was Sherlock.

Harry was extremely excited to meet his other older brother. But Sherlock had been away at school, studying, what, Harry was not sure, but Mycroft had said that he was a keen observer but he was not the government type like Mycroft was. Harry was very curious as to just what type Sherlock was. He saw a relatively tall and thin man get out of the car and glance at the house. Harry didn't wait for further confirmation as he quickly turned and headed to greet the newcomer and knowing that regardless of what type of person his younger elder brother was it was sure to be a very interesting Christmas.


	9. The Christmas Introduction

Sherlock stepped out of the town car and looked up at the manor house, noticing that the window frame had been replaced in the forth window on the second floor, and knowing that he didn't want to be here. This place held no tie for him any long, not since Mother had passed in April.

And Mycroft would tell him nothing of the pressing need for this farcical continuation of a Christmas tradition, which he didn't believe could hold any meaning for either of them. They might just as easily have met at Mycroft's club, or a restaurant in town. Yet he still sent the town car to collect Sherlock from University and the driver had been given strict orders that he was not to leave with out Holmes, the younger.

A flash of movement brought Sherlock's attention to the second window, but it was gone the next moment. It was then that he turned his attention to Mycroft, who was exiting his town car.

"Good afternoon Sherlock." he greeted warmly.

"Hello Mycroft," Sherlock said, "Would like to discuss why you felt it necessary to remove me from my studies? Or would you simply like to introduce me to our mystery guest."

At that moment Peirce had opened the door and a small boy strode out, and for the first time in his extensive recollections, he had a difficult time deducing the child. His presents did not seem appropriate, he was dressed well, dark trousers, polished shoes, high quality wool jumper over a white collared shirt, the right cuff had a darkened patch, smeared pencil lead. He had clearly just washed his hands but had been writing earlier in the day, a very young and studious child. He looked at Mycroft with obvious recognition, but his bone structure was sufficient to deduce they were not familial relations.

"Hello Mycroft." Harry said, "Hello, it is nice to finally meet you Sherlock."

"Hello indeed."

"Sherlock, permit me to introduce Hardwyn Holmes, our little brother." Mycroft said smirking.

"What!"

~/\~

The two elder Holmes brothers had removed themselves to lounge, Mycroft situating himself in an arm chairs while Sherlock perched himself by the window with his back to his elder brother.

"So this is why I have been removed from my work and forcibly brought here? To participate in this farce?" Sherlock railed.

"Cease your dramatics, you graduated two years ago and have spent copious amount of time and energy on your little problems. Taking the weekend off for a family holiday is not an unheard of occurrence."

"Who is he?" Sherlock demanded.

"He is our brother." Mycroft smiled. "Adopted by our Father prior to his death."

"Father died nearly six years ago." Sherlock stated factually, "The boy is at best four years old. Mother would not have been capable of keeping such a secret, and considering your contempt for children in general and his lacking any family resemblance, he's not yours. You then add in his apparent familiarity with you, and he is here for some other reason." He turned to glare at his brother. "Some political reason is causing you to keep the child. Who is he?" Mycroft's face set in its accustomed blank demeanor.

"You recall the violent incidents and random terrorist attacks a little over three years ago." Mycroft began.

"Of course, no suspects were apprehended, no witnesses survived, very little to go on." Sherlock stated, recalling the year of random attacks, and practically no evidence.

"You also recall it all ended one night for no explicable reason." Sherlock stared at his brother. "That boy was orphaned that night and a tyrant was crushed. But rather then being looked after, his people left him for dead. At fifteen months old he was left on a doorstep at an abusive home and no one bothered to check in. Four months ago he was almost murdered there." Mycroft explained and paused for a long moment to let the information sink in. "That is when the situation was brought to my attention, and I, in turn, brought him here. As far as anyone is concerned, he was the adopted son of our father and is our brother."

Sherlock stared at his brother for several moments waiting.

"You have some other purpose for keeping him here." Sherlock stated. He knew is brother, and his brother never put himself to any trouble unless he was getting something out of it. Yet Mycroft had a resigned look which Sherlock knew well. His brother would share no more information on the matter and to insist would be a pointless endeavor.

"If you have concluded your little tantrum, we shall try the introduction again." Mycroft stated and rang the bell. "Peirce, would you call Harry in."

~/\~

Harry sat on the top step of the stairs as his brothers went into the lounge. That introduction didn't go at all how he hoped, and he had tried so hard to be presentable and act as he was taught. Where had he gone wrong? Sherlock didn't seem know who he was. What was he supposed to do now?

It was then that Peirce walked up the steps and stopped several below him so that they were on the same level.

"Young Master," He said gently, "Your brother wishes to see you in the lounge."

"Thank you, Peirce." Harry answered quietly, and slowly stood and walked down the stares. Peirce couldn't help but think that he looked rather like a condemned man being taken to the gallows.

~/\~

Harry knocked on the door and waited for Mycroft's admittance before he entered. He looked around to see Sherlock was standing staring out the window while Mycroft was seated by the fire in his usual chair. Harry stopped just inside the door, which Peirce had closed behind him, and stared at the floor in front of Mycroft's feet. He had never been scolded or punished by his brother so he did not know what to expect, however years under the Dursley's rule had taught him if something was wrong, it was his fault. The staff had tried to rid him of this idea, but some lessons are extremely difficult to unlearn.

"Hello Harry," Mycroft began, with the overly friendly voice Harry knew he used when he had to explain things people on the phone, Mycroft didn't like the phone. "Our meeting outside had…surprised our brother. He didn't know he was meeting you today. So I was just explaining to him, why you two haven't met before now. But don't fret you two will soon be fast friends I'm sure, after all, you're a Holmes."

"What was he before?" Sherlock asked, not bothering to turn around.

"I am Hardwyn Holmes now." Harry said in as strong a voice as he could muster.

"That's not what I asked." Sherlock responded, "Before you were a Holmes, what were you called?"

"Freak." Silence filled the room after this pronouncement.

"Your name was 'Freak'?" Sherlock half turned to look at the boy from the corner of his eye.

"You didn't ask for my name." Harry explained still staring at the floor, "You asked what I was called."

"Well at least you have a grasp on language," Sherlock said trying to ignore the memories of his own childhood were that demeaning name was utter more then once in place of his own name. He pushed down the memory and turned to face the boy. "But are you clever?" Sherlock asked. Harry's head snapped round to stare at the tall thin man who was his elder brother. Clever? Was he clever? Harry was suddenly feeling very nervous, he did _know_ things, but knowing things and being clever were different. How was he supposed to answer.

"Well?" Sherlock asked and stepped closer, and as he did so Harry saw the lapel of his black blazer looked discolored in a stranger patch. This time it was Harry's turn to step forward, but he only did so to get a better view. Dust, Sherlock had dust low on his left lapel, why? Then his mind flashed back to a conversation with Mrs. Bunting about Sherlock keeping the house up at all hours with his playing.

"What violin piece were you working on just before you came?" Harry asked staring at the rosin on his lapel. Sherlock followed his eye line looking at the barely noticeable powder then back to the boy, his brother. Sherlock didn't answer, instead his face split into a wide grin.

Mycroft for his part watch the interaction from his chair, not sure whether to be pleased or concerned with the current outcome, but one thing was certain Christmas dinners would never be the same again.


End file.
